Jack Mounted
by Woe Kitten
Summary: SLASH. 0 0


Jack sauntered drunkenly around the table in his captain's quarters. The former Commodore Norrington sat with his legs propped up defiantly on the grungy wooden surface, fisting a canteen of rum and taking an indulgent swig. Will perched near the edge of his seat, uneasy in the very obviously Jack-toned surroundings. Sparrow took this all in through his dark eyes, expression vaguely confused but more or less the same expression he usually wore. He flamboyantly walked over to Will, blowing a lose dredlock of dark, dirty hair from his view.

His arms lossely hung at his sides, as his canteen loosely dangled by the leather strap wrapped around his tanned neck. "Now, what I don't get, Will lad, is how you can _possibly_ keep darling Elizabeth around when you don't have any... You know, snippety snip." He gestured agressively with his hands in a chopping motion that became more and more unsettling to look at every time Will saw it. Jack staggered and caught his balance by leaning heavily on the window seat and steadying himself.

"Why am I even here if we're going to be talking about Mr. Turner's fiancé?" Norrington grumbled sullenly.

"Why do you think--?" Will began.

"What's your secret?" Jack pressed. "How do you do it, lad?"

"I--" Will mouthed, unable to formulate a comprehensible response.

"Obviously he must be good at other things, now can I get back to my thoroughly disgusting job?"

"That's it! Lad, you are an _incredible_ kisser!" Jack blurted. He preformed the necessary hand gestures to make his point, which seemed to indicate projectile vomiting. His eyes darted furtively to ascertain whether he did, indeed, say that aloud, only to confirm that he did indeed do so. He nodded nervously.

"Well, I should hope, but I'm really not a--" the blacksmith tried to explain, only to have his lips enveloped in a wet, sloppy kiss that he had the misfortune to find tasting of a combination of rum and rotten flour. Jack's tongue exploded into the corners of poor Will's mouth and Will, disgusted, pulled away.

"Will boy, that didn't quite live up to my expectations."

"Fortunately." He violently scrubbed at his mouth with his sleeve. This did not fail to wash away the sensation, so he downed a large gulp of rum. This did not help much either. Jack turned away, unsatisfied, to the unkempt deckswabber.

"Come now, Norrington. I bet you have that special gift."

"No, no. I'm not quite drunk enough for that y--" His arms flailed jerkily as the captain experimented with his face. "God, give me more rum before you do that!" Sparrow grabbed a flagon and swung it in Norrington's direction. The man caught it and downed it. Jack place a hand on either side of Norrington's face and placed another hot, heavy kiss on his dry lips. Will watched with horrified, disgusted fascination, unable to look away, his mouth agape despite the danger.

Jack stumbled away from Norrington and licked his lips. "Wow. Now why didn't you end up with the lass again?" Norrington shrugged sheepishly, not entirely aware of his surroundings.

Norrington replied, "You're not half bad either... for a pirate."

"Look who's talking, mate. This lad here, though, he's just terrible."

"I think I'm leaving now," Will voiced, getting up from his chair and starting towards the glass doors of the captain's quarters' exit.

"Farewell," Norrington waved.

"No no no no. Will, boy, this man is _amazing._ Come over here." Jack grabbed Will's arm and began dragging him back. Will struggled galantly.

"I'm hurt, Mr. Turner," Norrington grumbled.

"Well I really need to get going. I'm sure that Elizabeth is, er, looking for me."

Jack threw his arms up and yelled with an enthusiastic exclamation, "GOODBYE KISS! Come lad, 'tis not that bad."

Norrington hobbled over to Will and placed his thin digits about his waist and kissed him heartily on the lips. Will flailed about and escaped their grasp and exited the cabin with all haste. Gibbs just stared at the lad with a raised eyebrow.

Will summoned a weak smile. "Y'know how it is," he said with forced nonchalance.

Gibbs assumed a knowing look and nodded slowly. "Aye," he acknowledged, although what exactly he was acknowledging Will didn't want to know.

Back in the cabin, Jack stared at Norrington. "Are you losing your touch, mate?"

Norrington laughed, staggered, drank some rum, and in reply kissed Jack. The former commodore stepped backward and promptly fell over. Jack laughed, then also, overtaken by Norrington's grasp on his ankle, landed hard on his ass.

Jack gave up on fighting gravity and lay sprawled on the floor. "Y'know," he said, gesturing to the ceiling, "you should start a business."

"What?"

"With kissing. You could teach blokes how to _woo_ their bonnie lasses."

"Mr. Sparrow, I hardly think anyone would want to take those courses."

Jack flailed around on the floor for a moment before his hand found a bottle of rum. "More rum, mate, you need more rum." Norrington accepted the rum and went to drink it. In the process, that rascally gravity dumped much of it on his face.

"More practice!" Jack declared with a finger pointed to the wood above. "That's all it takes."

"Ha ha! I may just need _you_ as an assistant, Mr. Sparrow," Norrington laughed and put and arm around Jack's shoulders. Jack swung around and smooched him.

Outside of the cabin, Will was still recovering. He paced back and forth, indecisive. He twitched uncontrollably for a few minutes, then sat down, taking a barrel and sitting upon it. His forehead rest in his splayed fingers and he sighed, sweat dripping in beads from his forehead. He grew curious as to what was going on within that cabin between the Captain and Norrington, and soon, his curiosity got the best of him. He swaggered into the quarters to find Commodore and Captain splayed atop one another exchanging all sorts of varieties of kisses. Jack sat up, sans shirt and drunkenly acknowledged the lass by waving an arm in his direction and spitting out a, "You know you want to, lass." _Damn. He had found himself unable to escape the poresent situation. _He flung his hands into the air and muttered a "why not," and joined the two drunked sailors on the floor in a heap.

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Credit goes to Sheepster and Tak. It was originally their idea. Tak and I just decided to write it, horny little devils that we are. :D


End file.
